


Hobbies You Do Together

by cherryjam (blueskull)



Series: Wondrous Tails 2020 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Selectively Mute Main Character, Spending Time Together, even though this takes place during the msq, spoilers for end of shb things, wondrous tails 2020, writing is a hobby, writing!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24366538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueskull/pseuds/cherryjam
Summary: Emet-Selch writes something rather unexpected.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Series: Wondrous Tails 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759252
Kudos: 15





	Hobbies You Do Together

It’s -- strange. Arianna would have never expected that she should want to talk to anyone...about these secret writings she feels so compelled to write. And yet -- she does not mind...his being here.

He does not judge. Or, at least -- he does not seem to. He has not even a sardonic remark for her. He merely -- sits near her. It is strangely...comforting. Though she struggles to associate that word with an Ascian --

It is all too easy to forget his presence, simply consider it a norm. As if she has done this before, though she knows that isn’t possible. She is...comfortable around him, though she really shouldn’t be. This is simply another quiet evening spent in his company. The days have started to blur together and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the light or because of his new _existing_ in this space, someone else other than her.

Brushing her dark hair behind her ears, she casts a furtive glance at him out of the corner of her eye. Emet-Selch is not looking at her; his attention, for the moment at least, is upon a book he’s pulled from one of her desks. It takes only a second for that to change, however.

Ah, he’s noticed her. The way his mouth curves in a smirk has her fumbling with her pen as she looks nervously away, her face reddening. She hears a quiet _thunk_ as the book is replaced, and then a low sigh.

"So, what have you written today, hmm?” he asks smoothly, as if to mask it. She holds his gaze this time as she looks up at him. Then, she looks away -- if only to write. She pushes her parchment aside to pick up a book, one that is only meant for conversations.

> _Nothing, yet. I have just been rereading old passages._

Upon finishing writing, she lifts the book toward him; he takes it from her.

“Having writer’s block?” he asks wryly, handing the book back. She gives a mild shrug -- perhaps she is merely looking for inspiration. Or a reason to write. Come to think of it...

> _If you would like_

But she can’t finish her words. She frowns, staring at the paper. She does not know -- how exactly to ask him...or if she even should. It’s silly of her. Ridiculous, even. There is no reason he would want to...but she’s let him read enough of them, that perhaps...

“Well?” His voice sounds so much closer to her ear than she ever expects, and she jumps in her seat, the top of her head brushing against his coat. “Would I like what? I won’t be able to answer unless you finish writing. I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

She has no idea why the sensation of ants crawling up her skin renews itself, nor why her heart threatens to beat out of her chest. Swallowing harshly, she smooths her fingers over the pages, trying to ignore the strange sensation that seems to assail her so often around him. She bites her lip, green eyes narrowing as she stares at the words, wondering if she would dare finish them.

Her hand moves.

> _If you would like, you could try writing something yourself?_

The sentence seems awkward to her, but she can’t think of any other way to put it.

She knows he must be able to see what she’s written, but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even move; she can feel him standing behind her, leaning to stare at the parchment. She wishes she could see his expression.

Finally, _finally_ , he moves, to sit on the other side of the table. A familiar place. They’ve sat like this before. Arianna blinks, watching him curiously. It’s a few more seconds before he chooses to respond.

“Why not...” His voice is quieter than she’s ever heard it, but -- it’s...assent. He almost sounds resigned.

Honestly, she’s more than a little surprised --

Emet-Selch seems deep in thought as he gazes down at the parchment she’s lent him, fingers twirling the writing utensil idly. His champagne eyes narrow, lips pursing, and it seems like an eternity before he finally begins to write.

She’d thought she would be able to relax then, but instead her entire body tenses, breath turning to ice in her chest as she can do nothing more than _wait_.

If it was an eternity before he started writing, surely it takes even longer for him to finish. She’s dreadfully curious. She wonders what he’s come up with -- if it’s some sort of mockery, or if he’s truly written something...himself. It’s difficult to explain. Is he making up his own story? She wants to ask, but she can’t, because she might interrupt him, and she so knows how frustrating it is to have one’s thoughts cleaved in half --

“There, all done.”

Her green eyes alight in curiosity as she takes the papers from him almost eagerly. A sense of wonderment is quick to come over her, as for a moment she simply gazes at the cursive, elegant print as if to memorise the lines. She likes his handwriting, she decides in some part of her mind, without really thinking about it.

Then, she focuses upon what he’s actually written. Oh, he’s writing about _them_ , those characters she’s told him about, the ones he occasionally asks about. The ones he seems to search for when he flips through her own writings.

It’s a -- a -- ...

K -- 

Her mouth is dry. The chair creaks as the Ascian shifts in his seat. She can see the folds of his clothing move in the corner of her eye.

“Coin for your thoughts?”

It’s just...it’s just...

Hades is kissing Persephone on the back of her hand. That’s all. There’s nothing lewd or unsavoury or strange about this passage at all. In fact, it’s quite pretty. Prettily written...

There’s nothing wrong with it. She can see everything.

It’s just two characters interacting in a story. She can see _everything_...

So why does it send her head awhirl like some silly teenager? This is _nothing_. This is...this is just...

It’s just a story.

She just never expected -- that he would --

That he would write about...them. Much less...write them...in such a manner...she...

She’s not sure why she’s blushing. She wants to scrub the heat from her skin, but she’s frightened of drawing too much attention to her face at the same time. Oh, but that’s nothing she needs to worry about, is it? He’s already staring at her, measuring her response, and that’s also why she can’t look at him.

Arianna’s mouth opens before she can think about it. It’s as if she wants to speak. And, for some reason, she does. Just knowing this causes her cheeks to burn further as her teeth click together. Her mouth twists in something like vague indecision as she tries to piece together how to respond, how to answer him -- what she’s even responding _to_...

He just wants to know if she likes what he’s written. Though she can’t imagine why he would ever want her approval...

Blinking rapidly, she fumbles with the writing utensil blindly for a moment, before pulling her book toward her. She stares at the page blankly, unable to formulate a response.

> _It’s very pretty._

A lame, tame response to something that deserves far more. She tries to add more.

> _I like it. You know the characters well, I think._

It’s...it’s nothing. It’s stupid.

She pushes the book over to him anyway. His laughter has her chest tightening and her flush running deeper.

“I am glad you enjoyed it, my dear.”


End file.
